


Something Good

by julia_in_outer_space



Category: tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julia_in_outer_space/pseuds/julia_in_outer_space
Summary: Tom doesn’t take the news of your pregnancy well, and things do not get any better when your car goes flying over a cliff during a blizzard.
Relationships: Tom Holland (Actor)/Reader, Tom Holland (Actor)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: https://outer-space-writings.tumblr.com/

There’s a particular feeling when your whole life unravels in front of you. A weight in the pit of your stomach, cold and dark, sucking out all of the certainties you held so dear. Your heart begins to race, your lungs constrict, your throat closes up.

It’s a feeling you had never experienced before, and one you’d expected to never have to know.

You sat in the passenger seat of Tom’s car, your arms clenched around your middle, eyes staring straight ahead. It was nearly midnight, and the road was nearly invisible from the heavy snow that had been steadily falling for the past hour or so. You had been unsure about taking the mountain path in such weather, but Tom’s eyes had been so full of anger that you hadn’t dared say anything.

You could almost see the waves of tension rolling in the air from his side of the car. His knuckles were stark white around the steering wheel, his arms shaking with what you assumed were his efforts to remain calm.

You had never been scared of him, before. You were now. It would only take a word from him, a simple decision, and your entire life would be snatched away from you.

Your hands pressed harder against your stomach, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. All because of a tiny bundle of cells growing in your womb.

_Tom’s eyes widen as the words leave your lips, the champagne flute in his fist shaking as he digests the news. The cast of his new movie is none the wiser, still happily celebrating the premiere in the next room. You hadn’t wanted to tell him you were pregnant this way, but there was no avoiding it after he’d seen you puke your guts out in the bathroom. You had always been a lousy liar._

You shut your eyes, not wanting to relive the memory. It was bad enough that his words still rang in your head like a church’s bell, words you had never thought could leave those lips you liked to kiss so much.

_“I don’t want to be a father.”_

You knew he was scared, and confused. So were you. You were far too young, too unprepared. You hadn’t even talked about children, and the both of you were so careful with contraception. You still didn’t understand _how_ you could be pregnant, but your doctor had been positive. You, who barely knew how to take care of yourself, were having a baby.

You were terrified, _of course you were_. And you knew Tom would be too. But you hadn’t thought he’d react to the news with so much animosity. The look he’d given you, your stomach, would haunt you forever.

“Do you want to keep it?” he said suddenly, breaking the silence in the car. Your eyes snapped up, looking at him. He sounded so _cold_.

The burst of hate that rose in your chest was so sudden you could barely believe it came from you. But also, _fuck him_.

“You can’t ask me that,” you said, your teeth aching from how hard you were clenching your jaw.

“Of course I’m asking. I need to know what you’re planning to do.”

“Why? So you know if you need to start packing or not?”

Tom’s head whirled to face you, shock filling those beautiful brown eyes. The shock quickly turned to disbelief, then anger once more.

“Is that what you think of me?” he laughed. It was far from a happy sound. “That I’m the kind of guy who’d bail on my pregnant girlfriend? Fuck, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shame rolling in waves in your veins. If you were being honest, no, you’d never thought Tom would give up on you. But that didn’t make things any better.

“I’d rather you leave than force yourself to raise a child you don’t want.”

The words were out, and you could almost see the blow they made to Tom as he registered them, and the brutal honesty in your voice. He swallowed heavily, blinking hard.

“You already love it more than me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true. Isn’t it?”

You held back a sob. This was it. Your answer would make or break your relationship with Tom, you could feel it with every fibre of your being. You felt as if you were riding in a fast car with no brakes that was hurtling towards a wall at top speed. Powerless.

“Yes,” you choked out. “It’s true.”

Tom made a noise you’d never heard from him before. It soft but terrible, a sound of betrayal, of fear and anger and panic. Pain like nothing you’d ever felt pierced your chest, and you no longer bothered to hold back your tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, reaching out to grab his sleeve. “Please, I just – I don’t know, Tom.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” he exploded, shaking out your grasp. “That I – that I’m happy? I’m not! I’ve got so many plans! Quentin _fucking_ Tarantino wants me in that new project of his, but I guess that’s over. Cause I’m not leaving you alone to raise this – this kid, and I can’t do both. Shit, Y/N, you know how it is in this line of work. I leave Hollywood for a year, maybe two, and there might be nothing waiting for me when I come back.”

“Then leave!” you said, punching the edge of your seat with a closed fist. “If it’s such a dilemma to you, go do your movies! I don’t need you to raise a child, I’ll get by on my own, just like I always do when you’re gone.”

“Oh, come on, you knew what you were getting into when we got together, don’t pretend this was a –“

The tree came out of nowhere. One moment, the road in front of you was free, the next, the trunk of a huge tree was barring the way. You screamed, one hand grasping Tom’s shoulder, the other clutching the skin of your stomach.

Tom hit the brakes, turning the wheel so that his side of the car would hit the tree, but the road was covered in snow and even the chains you’d put on the tires before leaving were powerless as Tom lost control of the vehicle.

You could only watch as the car smashed through the barricade, the only obstacle between you and the sheer drop down the cliff. Your head hit the dashboard as you went airborne, and you had half a thought that you’d need to sue the dealership for selling you a car with defective airbags, before everything turned dark.

******

Tom felt the cold before he felt the pain. It was the kind of cold that burned, that turned your skin to steel and your blood to magma. His head was buzzing, his thoughts murky. There was something urgent pressing at the front of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

Until the pain rose. A heartbeat after he’d risen to consciousness, his chest ached so fiercely he felt as if it had been carved open. His eyes snapped open as his throat tore around a half-broken scream, his muscles seizing in agony.

At first, all he could see was white. He vaguely recognized snow, falling rapidly on top of him, but the pain was so great he couldn’t focus on anything else. He breathed in, his ribs screaming, then out. There was a deflated airbag in front of him, beyond which he could see the broken windshield of his car.

“The hell –” he groaned, tears stinging the corner of his eyes.

His seat belt was so tight across his chest, and he felt dampness on his side, where it seemed to have actually dug _into_ his skin. He hissed as he pushed the buckle off, and the belt loosened. The pain alleviated, and his mind cleared enough for the memories to push through.

Flashes of the snow rose in his head, and the tree on the road. He remembered the weightless feeling in his stomach as the car flew in the air, and the shock in his teeth when it hit the ground.

And then, he remembered your screams.

His heart seized with the intensity of the panic that took control of his mind, and his ribs burned with the speed at which he turned to the side. It was so dark, he could barely see anything.

But there you were, still buckled in on the passenger seat, your eyes closed. Tom’s gaze ran up and down your body, every part of it he could see, cataloging every injury he found with growing dread.

There was blood _everywhere_. Your face, your head, your arms, your chest, they were covered in it. Cuts littered your skin, small shards of glass embedded in some of them. Your arm was _wrong_ , bending unnaturally in a way that made Tom feel nauseous.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice breaking. “Y/N, baby, open your eyes.”

Could he touch you? His head was filled with images of broken necks, broken spines.

“Y/N, _please_. Just open your eyes.”

His fingers pressed tentatively against the underside of your jaw, blood coating his fingertips. Your skin was so, so cold, and his hand was shaking so much he couldn’t keep it still enough to search for a pulse.

“Don’t do this to me,” he whispered brokenly. “Don’t you dare do this to me. Not like this.”

And then, so soft it felt like a butterfly had brushed the tips of his fingers, he felt it. The slow, yet strong, heartbeat that meant Tom’s whole life hadn’t just turned to ash.

Tears slid down his face as he sobbed, taking a second to close his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

His gaze found your face once more, hope now filling his chest. His eyes slid from your slightly open mouth, to your rising chest, and suddenly stopped to the arm that you still held around your stomach.

And Tom went numb.

You were _pregnant._

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “No, God.”

His hand shot out in a reflex that came from deep, deep inside him, and pressed against your stomach. As if he could somehow feel that little spark of life in your womb. There was no blood on your lower chest, but that didn’t mean much. You were only _six weeks along_. So many things could go wrong, even without car accidents adding to it.

And Tom felt like the worst person in the world, because this was _his fault_.

_He_ ’d insisted on coming home, even though it was snowing. _He_ ’d gotten mad in the car and had been distracted. _He_ ’d broken your heart, on what you must have thought would be a happy occasion.

You were _pregnant_ , and Tom had handled it in the worst possible way.

Because he was scared, and barely an adult himself, and he’d seen his entire future slipping between his fingers. And he’d focused on that, not seeing that you were just as scared as he was. You should have discussed the pregnancy calmly, abortion or no abortion. With trust and love on both sides.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he choked out, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face. “Fuck, I’m going to fix it, I swear.”

He fished out his phone from his pocket, his ribs aching so bad he saw white. The brightness of the screen nearly blinded him when he turned it on, but he could still see the blessed three little bars that told him he could still call for help.

“ _9-1-1, what’s your emergency?_ ”

“He-hello? Please, I need help, our car went over the road and my girlfriend, she-”

“ _Sir, take a deep breath and tell me where you are.”_

Tom did, as best as he could, but the car had fallen so far down that even the operator sounded unsure of just how fast help would reach them. Tom could only hold Y/N’s hand as he answered every question thrown at him, his heart racing, faster and faster as time passed.

_“Is there anything you forgot to tell me, sir?”_ the operator asked. “ _Any allergies to medication you or your girlfriend might have?”_

“She’s pregnant,” answered Tom, the words painful. “Six weeks along. It has to be alright. The baby has to be fine, please.”

The operator answered, but Tom could no longer hear her. His eyes were fixed on Y/N’s stomach. And he could have screamed at the unfairness of it all. Because now that it was all on the brink of destruction, he felt this longing in his soul. For Y/N, for family, for this piece of the both of them growing inside of her.

It couldn’t end now.

******

You were so comfortable.

You were sure you had to be lying down on a cloud, nothing could be quite as soft and fluffy as the tissue that covered you, from the tip of your toes to your shoulders. You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“Y/N?” asked a voice, one you knew quite well.

Your smile grew bigger as you blinked your eyes open, a shadow that looked suspiciously like your boyfriend in front of you.

“Hi,” you said, and dear God, why was your voice so scratchy?

Tom’s face broke into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, tears shining in his eyes. He pressed a rough kiss on your forehead, his hands on the side of your head, caging you in.

“They told me you were okay, but I didn’t believe it. God, baby, I missed you so much.”

You were _so_ confused. Your head felt fuzzy, your feet were vibrating, and you were somewhat sure that Tom had a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

“I think I got roofied,” you told Tom, frowning.

He laughed, and if the sound sounded somewhat broken, you didn’t take notice of it.

“No, darling, you weren’t roofied. But you are under some pretty hardcore medical drugs.”

“Does that mean I’m one of the cool kids now?”

He touched your cheek, his fingers sliding down until they rested above your heart.

“The coolest, Y/N.”

Your head was getting clearer, not by much, but enough to realize that Tom had bruises all over his face and a mean cut over his eyebrow. You vaguely remembered a lot of noise, and cold like you had never felt before.

“Wha’ happened?”

Tom sobered down, his smile fading and giving place to a look of pure, abysmal guilt. His eyes turned to the window, but they were vacant, lost.

“We had an accident. The car went over the cliff, and you – you were pretty banged up.”

You raised a single eyebrow, mentally cataloging every inch of your body. You were…achy, but you weren’t in much pain. You still had two arms, and two legs, your head was attached to your shoulder, and your baby was –

“Oh god,” you gasped, your hands flying to your stomach. “Oh God, my baby.”

Tom’s eyes snapped back to you, widening as your panic rose and rose. He called your name, but you were too far gone to hear him.

“I lost him!” you cried, the ache in your heart overwhelming. “I lost our baby! Tom, I don’t – I –”

Tom grabbed your head as gently as he could, pushing on your chin so that you were forced to look at him. His other hand brushed away your tears before sliding into your hair.

“Y/N, the baby is _fine_.”

“What?”

“They did an ultrasound, darling, everything’s okay.”

You burst into tears, exhaustion making you boneless as Tom gently pulled you into his arms, rocking you gently. You gripped his shirt with as much strength as you could muster, needing to feel him, to have his steady presence near you.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said against your head. “I messed up so bad. And you have no reason to forgive me, I know. But if you do…God, if you do, I’ll be so happy to start this family with you.”

You pulled back a little, your eyes boring into his own, needing to make sure that he was serious.

“Even if you can’t act for a little while?”

“I promise. Tarantino can find someone else; I don’t care. I’ve got all I need right here.”

It didn’t fix everything, you knew. Tom and you had many things to talk about, to figure out. But you were drugged out of your mind, and both the man you loved and your unborn child were okay.

For now, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: https://outer-space-writings.tumblr.com/


End file.
